


boy what you looking for? (you know where them cookies are)

by IvyPrincess



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Attempted Seduction, Dry Humping, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, i don't wanna talk about it, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/pseuds/IvyPrincess
Summary: In hindsight, this is all Jaemin's fault, much like everything else in Renjun's life.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 22
Kudos: 141





	boy what you looking for? (you know where them cookies are)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tenspetal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenspetal/gifts).



> dedicated to kass, who's like the only reason this is getting posted. apologies in advance. love you.

It’s been rough, living in such close quarters with someone so devastatingly attractive. Rough on Renjun’s ass, that is, with how much wear his favorite dildo has been getting. It’s like Jeno exists only to torment him with those muscular arms and lean torso, all on display every time he so much as stretches, and part of Renjun’s fascination is purely aesthetic, fingers itching for a pencil to sketch that modelesque figure in front of him, but part of him also just really, really wants to be dicked down.

They don’t speak much normally, although their social circles do overlap, because Renjun was a morning person, and Jeno’s labs run late at night. Between those weighty time constraints, these two, who had never been the closest in their little group of friends, who had never been alone together before this semester, find themselves shuffling around each other in a single living space. Their first greeting every day was early if it happened at two in the afternoon, when Jeno woke up to Renjun devouring a late lunch, and Renjun thanked God every day for his sleepy, oblivious flatmate and his inability to wear pants to bed.

Unfortunately, that obliviousness applied to Renjun’s intentions equally, Jeno thinking nothing of it when Renjun began wearing not much more than thigh-highs and big shirts around their apartment.

“It’s comfortable,” Renjun explains sultrily, sweating beneath an oversized hoodie in late April but doing his best to look edible anyways.

“Whatever you say,” Jeno agrees placidly, even as his ears redden when Renjun’s crossed legs draw his gaze.

Really, what’s a guy to do to get his unbearably sexy roommate to fuck him?

“At this point, you might as well gift wrap yourself naked on his bed,” Donghyuck, that king of terrible ideas, suggests, breath hitching as Renjun grinds harder onto his length in reproach, scowling.

What, you thought Renjun was going to just waste away pining for a single dick? No man is worth voluntary celibacy, not even Lee Jeno.

“Don’t be stupid,” Renjun retorts, intimidation lost as his lips part in a silent gasp. Donghyuck’s grip on his ass tightens. “Have some c-class.”

Donghyuck snorts, hands sliding up Renjun’s sides to thumb over both nipples at once, sending the smaller man’s back arching as he climaxes. “Class? That’s rich, coming from you,” Donghyuck huffs out petulantly between thrusts as he goads himself to the same high. “ _Slut_ ,” he murmurs wickedly, smug as Renjun hiccups out a sob from the overstimulation.

Okay, fine, Donghyuck isn’t entirely wrong, there aren’t many lows Renjun wouldn’t stomach in his ongoing quest to get into Jeno’s pants (he draws the line at cannibalism; human sacrifice is still on the table), but this is getting ridiculous enough that Renjun seriously entertains the fantasy of actually sliding naked into Jeno’s room and just jumping his bones… Renjun shudders. It’s getting bad if Donghyuck’s plots start sounding _appealing_.

In all honesty, though, Jeno’s birthday _is_ coming up, and Renjun can feel the clock ticking as time trickles away from him, so now that Hyuck’s put it into his head that nudity and gift ribbons go together, he can’t stop thinking about it. They’re seniors, graduating in less than two months, and Renjun seriously thinks he’d die if he can’t have Jeno under him at least once.

(“What if he turns out to be a better lay than you expected and you spend the rest of your life pining after him from the opposite side of the country?”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who’s already slept with him and had the audacity to try to hide it from me, Jaemin.” There are too many teeth in that answering grin. What does he know?)

It’s not like Renjun didn’t get Jeno a real present already anyway.

It’s not like he didn’t spend the better part of April agonizing over what to get the man who already has everything (and refuses to acknowledge it, yes, Renjun is referring to himself).

It’s not like he didn’t spend substantially more money than he should have ordering one of those fancy (read: expensive) fountain pens that Jeno seems to lust over (when Renjun is _right here_ , lustable and on display for you already, dummy) because beyond being unbearably attractive, Jeno also happens to be a perfect cohabitee, who doesn’t flood the bathroom, and shares his leftovers, and lets Renjun know when he’ll be home late so he doesn’t have to worry that someone is breaking in and remembers to pick up toilet paper at the grocery store and smiles ever so sweetly when Renjun lets him pick a movie to watch together on the weekends—

The box slips out of his slack fingers. Oh no. He doesn’t just crave dick. He craves _feelings_.

Honestly, this was probably the inevitable conclusion, because Renjun’s always had a bit of a weak spot for the boy he didn’t know much about until Jaemin had dragged his childhood best friend to one of their weekly mahjong games (oh _man_ did he regret teaching those ruthless bastards another game to gamble at). Jeno had that quiet, unassuming charm Renjun softened for, but Jaemin had to make one innuendo about his, ah, _size_ , and suddenly Renjun was focused on a different goal until it was far, far too late to realize how hard he’d actually fallen.

Surprisingly enough, nothing much changes after that mildly traumatizing revelation. There’s only so much time to yearn and pine and panic text Jaemin something incoherent and accusatory when midterms are hot on their heels. While their schedules might overlap more frequently, there’s too much at stake for Renjun to spare more than a passing glance for Jeno’s hot bod (god, he’s wearing those fucking _glasses_ again) before he returns reluctantly to a hellish stack of flashcards. They don’t see much of each other, both holed in their own rooms, only emerging to meet at the coffeemaker doing double time and blearily slump against the counter.

The exams themselves pass in a haze, as they always do, and Renjun’s head throbs as he finally collapses on his bed after the last one, wriggling out of as much of his clothing as he can without actually having to sit up. The apartment was empty when he came home earlier. Jeno, that lucky bitch, had finished his exams a few days earlier and was probably back in his lab already. Renjun probably has a few hours to get acquainted with his right hand again, but his exhaustion claims him before his libido can, and he drifts off wearily into some much needed sleep, dreams filled with sighs and heat and a gaze he can’t seem to shake off.

Renjun wakes up a decade later and many times heavier. The sun has long since set, the weight of disorientation settling heavily in all four limbs. The effort to flip over onto his back again seems impossible. Wait. That’s because it is. Someone’s laid one of his $300 textbooks on his back, and it thuds onto the floor as he finally gets up. There’s a sticky note on the cover, barely legible handwriting as familiar to Renjun as his own. _Going clubbing without you_ , reads Jaemin’s note. _Check your phone!!!_

 _Sorry, we couldn’t wake you_ , Jeno’s cramped writing adds. _You looked like you needed it._ Bastards, Renjun thinks, with no little amount of affection.

True to form, Renjun’s phone is crammed full with unread texts from the past few days, mostly Jaemin as always, and he quickly scrolls through all of it, not reading anything until he notices Jeno’s name come up.

**Jaemin**

injunnieeee why didn’t u tell me u liked jeno ಥ_ಥ

can’t believe i had to find out from hyuckie ( ˃̣̣̣̣o˂̣̣̣̣ )

i could’ve been matchmaking all this time!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

hmph ᕙ(•̀‸•́‶)ᕗ

but u really went and fell for him b4 u even fucked huh (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

don’t worry!! ur favorite nana coming to the rescue~~

oops but i wanted to get him laid tonight… ఠ_ఠ

hmm

maybe i should tell hyuckie to stop bringing more girls back to the table

**Renjun**

What the fuck.

In times of great need, there is only one person Renjun can call for help, no matter how unreliable he may be. He calls Mark.

“Hey, R-renjun-ah,” the older boy picks up almost immediately, and the muted clamor in the background of the call confirms his attendance at Jaemin’s misguided sortie, although Renjun is a little suspicious at his shaky tone.

“Mark-hyung. You’re with the others right now, right?”

“Haha, yeah, ahh, wait, ngh, what are you up t-to?” Ew, was he…? Never mind. Renjun was a fool to trust any man. This was a terrible idea.

Renjun sighs. “Pass the phone to Donghyuck.” There’s a hurried discussion, and some fumbling, and then a familiar rasp speaks up.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Hyuck greets cheerfully. “How you feeling, princess?”

“You suck,” Renjun huffs, grossed out but a little bit aroused just for the hell of it.

“And I do it well,” Hyuck counters smugly. “You’re missing out on some hilarious shit, by the way. Jaemin tried flirting with the bartender,” he reports gleefully.

“Isn’t Suzy gay? Oh wait, he wasn’t with us last time when we found out. Has he gotten punched yet?”

“Give it 5 minutes.”

Renjun shakes himself out of the headiness of Jaemin’s rightfully deserved karma. “Wait, do you know where Jeno is?” Hopefully not buried under a pile of women, or whatever Jaemin and Hyuck had decided his poor little bisexual heart needed.

Hyuck snickers, which doesn’t bode well. “Check Snap.” He hangs up. Renjun scowls. Useless, all of them.

Renjun reconsiders his feelings of betrayal very quickly once he sees what they’ve sent him on Snapchat. Jeno is stunning under the low blue lighting in the club, trying to hide his bashful smile as Jaemin wolf whistles in the background over the loud music. Renjun swallows dryly. Replays the video. Screenshots it. Zooms in on that stunning jawline. Ogles that fitted black shirt a little more. He wants him so bad, in whatever amount Jeno is willing to give him, and there’s no one around to hear the whimper he lets out, but Renjun feels embarrassed all the same.

 _Prove that you’re actually going to do something about him_ , reads the remarkably serious message following a slew of shaky images, all centered on Jeno, all dazzling despite the terrible quality. _I just want to see my friends happy. Or fucked out,_ Jaemin’s last message adds thoughtfully.

There are no kaomojis. It’s a challenge.

Renjun is a sensible young man. He knows the chances of a relationship, or even returned feelings, is low when they’re all this close to some big changes in their lives, but the chances of successfully getting dicked down are much higher, especially with how incestuous their friend group feels at times, so he’d rather seduce Jeno than confess to him at this point. How the fuck he’s supposed to prove that to Jaemin, Renjun has no idea.

Renjun flops backwards onto his bed, groaning as he tosses his phone away. He should sleep instead of fretting over all the hypotheticals of what Jaemin might get up to. Well, there’s really only one thing he can do now. Renjun pads into the bathroom, fully intent on showering and then fapping his sorrows away.

The thing is, Renjun’s always loved his own body, all slim and pink, with the slightest plump to his thighs and ass, perfect for someone to grip tightly. If he wasn’t in love with Jeno, he’d be in love with himself. In other words, he’s exactly Jeno’s type, so why oh why, he fumes, rolling stockings over his slightly damp knees, won’t his flatmate do something about it? God, he looks good tonight, hiking the waistband of his panties up his hips. Jeno doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, Renjun thinks savagely, but the thought gives him a different idea as he preens one last time in front of the mirror.

He hurries to his room, rummaging through his closet to pull out the fabric he’s been hiding for the better part of a week now, still heady from the thrill of even _taking_ it, but Jeno hasn’t asked where his sleep shirt went, so Renjun won’t feel too guilty about inhaling deeply as he shrugs the worn cotton on. It drapes nicely over his figure, skimming the tops of his thighs, oversized enough to almost slip off one of his shoulders, and he quickly snaps a few pictures to send to Jaemin, the hem of that gray shirt clenched between his teeth to show off his milky stomach and pretty, pink-tipped cock peeking out of those panties.

 _Why would he fuck anyone you found,_ Renjun’s caption quips, _when he’s got this waiting at home for him?_

It’s been far, far too long, and just parting his knees to straddle the pillow has Renjun tilting his head back in ecstasy as he rocks slowly against the worn cotton.

It’s less about the friction and more about how on display he is for anyone who may walk in: he might be alone at the moment, but, oh, just imagining if Jeno came home this very second has Renjun collapsing face down into the sheets, hips still twitching deliriously into his pillow, shirt rucking up to expose more of his creamy thighs.

He can’t help the whimper escaping from his lips, feeling embarrassed about making noise even though he’s home alone, but it just served to rile him up more. Renjun slips two of his fingers into his mouth, still grinding against his pillow, still deep in a haze of pleasure, before withdrawing them to run his hand under his panties, rubbing over his rim.

Fuck, just this much feels amazing, tugging at one of his cheeks, and even beneath his underwear he just feels so _exposed_ , if someone walked in on him right now, and his breath hitches as his length catches against his panties, the friction carrying away any rhythm he had until there’s nothing he can do but hump haphazardly against the pillow, eyes slipping shut with sheer pleasure.

There’s only one person Renjun wants to walk in on him right now, see how he’s laid up all for the taking, _if only he could see_ , but even under these circumstances, it feels taboo to say his name out loud, no matter how desperately he wants to be fucked right now, feel someone’s cock inside him, because fingers won’t be enough for him tonight, he knows, and he’s not sure he even wants to _try_ fingering himself if he can’t have who he really wants.

Renjun whines plaintively into his sheets, cheeks reddening, but he can’t help the name escaping his mouth, no matter how much he tries to hide the sheer want, the small rolls of his hips accentuating how his moans are increasing in pitch. “J-jeno…”

“Yeah?” Comes a hoarse voice from behind him, and Renjun starts, pulling his hand out of his panties and rolling over onto his back, the sudden lack of friction causing his hips to instinctively jerk into the air once, and he can’t help but notice how Jeno’s eyes follow the movement hungrily in the dim lighting.

Jeno, who stands in front of him looking as devastatingly gorgeous as he had in Jaemin’s pictures. Jeno, who should have been out tonight, at the nightclub with the rest of their friends. Jeno, who approaches Renjun where he’s splayed out, chest heaving, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“Jeno…” Renjun repeats, trailing off as his breath hitches, still far too affected despite the humiliating flush on his cheeks from getting caught. He’s so aroused it hurts, and he can’t stop his hand from trailing back down his hip, toying with his waistband as he slips his fingers into his panties to trace over his length, not that Jeno seems to mind the motion at all.

“I’m here now,” his roommate replies quietly, watching Renjun’s reaction as he steps forward, seemingly in a trance. “Jaemin left his phone at the table. I called a cab and came home as soon as I saw what you sent him.”

“Yeah?” Renjun breathes out, slowly jerking himself off now, spreading his legs further, watching Jeno groan as Renjun opens himself up to him. “Liked what you saw?”

Jeno pauses, inhaling deeply as his eyes close for a second. “Oh, _baby_ , you have no idea.” He makes to crawl in further, but before he can reach out to touch Renjun, there’s a socked foot in the middle of his chest, pushing back against him.

“Then you can look a little longer,” Renjun replies breathily, one hand braced behind his messy hair, hips frotting into his own hand, staring at Jeno with teary eyes, half coy, half desperate. “Look what you’ve done to me, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno groans, pushing back against Renjun, but he’s kept at a distance, wrapping a hand around Renjun’s foot and nuzzling into his leg, pressing kisses into his ankle. “I’m looking, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long.”

Renjun tosses his head back as the pleasure builds, mewling and baring his neck, that pretty milky chest. “I’ve been waiting s-so, _ah_ , long, for you to notice me.” He brings his wet fingers to his lips, eyes half-lidded, lapping at the precome, tasting himself. “Mm, why should I let you touch me, when you’re so late?”

That’s it, Jeno can’t take it anymore, surging forward until Renjun’s leg is hooked over his shoulder, stretching him impossibly wide, impossibly displayed, all his for the taking. Renjun likes the manhandling, if the sudden widening of his eyes is any indication, caught off guard in _Jeno’s_ shirt looking good enough to eat, and Jeno is a starving man at a feast fit for the gods.

“Oh, baby,” Jeno croons, the realization of the past few weeks igniting a surprising confidence in his smirk, hitching Renjun’s other leg around his hips as he cages the other’s face in his arms. “Renjunnie, you’re going to lie there looking like _that_ and tell me I can’t have you?”

Renjun looks away, flustered, fingers falling away from his lips. “N-no,” he stammers, senses overwhelmed with so much Jeno when he’d been all but deprived for so long. “I… Please...” He trails off, feeling Jeno’s bulge rock against his own, sending sparks of pleasure heating up his spine, and can’t resist grinding harder against him.

Jeno exhales, not unaffected, leaning in closer, until he can feel the heat of Renjun’s cock against his own, even through multiple layers of fabric. “Tell me what you want, Renjun,” he whispers into the other’s ear. “Tell me what you want me to do.” All he needs is approval, an order, and he’ll take Renjun apart like he deserves.

“Jeno, please, I need _more_ ,” Renjun whines, hips jolting up into Jeno’s, cock bouncing slightly in his panties with every thrust, and _finally_ Jeno hitches Renjun’s ass further into his lap, letting the half naked boy’s legs fall to pull him as close as they could be.

There’s no time to get Jeno’s clothes off, not when Renjun’s so close, pleasure twisting into a heated ball in his stomach. “I’m gonna, _ah_ , come, please,” Renjun begs, looking completely wrecked, and Jeno grinds down harder against him.

Jeno brings one hand up to smear the drool around Renjun’s chin, watching him automatically part his lips as he tries to catch Jeno’s thumb in his mouth. His hips don’t stop moving, thighs clasped tightly around Jeno, speeding up. “S-so close, _please_ —”

“Then come, baby,” Jeno rasps, feeling himself near his climax, too, and Renjun finally lets go, thighs shaking as white streaks across his bare stomach and Jeno’s shirt, breathing heavily as he slowly rolls his hips, riding out the orgasm. Jeno isn’t far behind, collapsing heavily onto him, but Renjun doesn’t mind the weight, not when it’s the guy he’s been pining over for longer than even he knew.

And maybe they fell asleep like that, limbs heavy, emotions trapped in their chests… or maybe they didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> this never happened.


End file.
